


It Was a Grey and Stormy Night

by silksieve



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-24
Updated: 2010-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silksieve/pseuds/silksieve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that Grey Wardens, Private Investigators LLP, had reached the end of the line.</p><p>A noir-AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was a Grey and Stormy Night

We had been camped at our desks for hours already, the rickety fan on the ceiling creaking slowly, doing nothing to dispel the dense summer heat.  Nobody had stopped by for the second week straight, and I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that Grey Wardens, Private Investigators LLP, had reached the end of the line, doomed to die an ignoble and unrecognized death.

I tossed the rubber ball at the ceiling one more time before stashing it in my desk.  The clock chimed eight as I kicked the drawer shut, and I sighed.  We had already stayed longer than was necessary, hoping against hope for that big case to come at last and save the firm.  There was nothing; we were history.

My junior partner, Alistair, was slumped over his desk, morosely flipping a pencil between his fingers.  The broken pieces of lead and wood on the floor and the couple of new holes in my wall were testament to the only breaks in the monotony of the last few days.

I felt a little bad for the kid.  I’d taken him as a sort of favor to his dad, who had been a pal of mine during the war, but he was green as a spring apple.  He’d come in expecting adventure and excitement, stakeouts and midnight chases, not realizing that a lot of the work was all paper and files.  And he hadn’t even gotten much of that.

Still, it had been nice to have another person around, and Alistair was more reliable than most. All my former partners, the ones who had built the firm with me, were long gone: dead in the war, caught in some back alley crossfire, or lost in the fog of whiskey. Whatever it was that happened to men with hearts too strong and bodies too weak. And without them, without the hustle of manpower and drum of clients, business dried up. What had once been a firm of repute was now just a crumbling mess.

I was the only one left, and I was closing up shop.

I reached over and gave Alistair a shake.  “Time to go, kid.”

He sat up and pinched his nose.  “Yeah,” he said.  He shuffled some of his personal belongings together while I locked the cabinets and turned off the light.  The movers coming tomorrow would take care of the rest. 

I grabbed my case from my desk and stopped to take one last look at the old place.  I was going to miss it.  I turned to grab my hat from the stand when everything went darker.  It figured that the lone light bulb out in the hallway would choose tonight to give out.  But when I turned back, I realized that someone was standing in front of the door.  Someone with a shadow that had curves like a Stradivarius violin.

Before I could react, the door opened and in walked what could only be described as a Dame. She wore a black dress that was just a little too short and a little too tight, patent leather pumps on the ends of her mile-high legs, and pearls that looked like they could put out somebody’s eye.  Her lips were painted a fire-engine red and her curled blond hair was topped by a ridiculous hat.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Alistair hastily tuck in his shirt and straighten his tie.

“Do you always sit around in the dark?” she asked, in a voice filled with smoke and heat.

“Only when we’re about to head out the door, Miss….?”

“Cousland.  Elissa Cousland.”

I could feel my eyebrows climbing to my hairline.

“Elissa Cousland?  Of Cousland’s Department Store and Fine Goods?”

She inclined her head.

“Cousland?” asked Alistair. “Aren’t you the…oh.  Right.  Shutting up now.”

I resisted the urge to cuff him.  The Couslands were local legends, building the biggest department store chain in the country from a small five-and-dime. Old Man Cousland had been famous for sticking with his roots, despite all his success, and the family was a pillar in local society.  Still, even with the current crop involving themselves generously in all the worthy causes, they were an insular bunch.  I’d never seen the daughter before, although rumor had her cutting a swath abroad.

And of course, not three nights ago, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland had been found dead, murdered in their bed, creating one of the most sensational news pieces in recent memory.  I’d heard it come in over the wire, and felt a kind of detached sympathy.  The Couslands and I didn’t run on the same track, and while I wouldn’t wish cold murder on anyone, homicide was hardly my professional province.  The feds had swooped in shortly afterwards, and from the disgruntled comments I’d heard from the boys in blue, there were rumors flying about professional hits, state secret espionage, and treason.  That had struck me as odd, since Bryce Cousland had seemed like the staunchest of patriots, proudly offering to kit the army with personal gear from the Cousland repository.  Then again, in my line of business, I knew that appearances could be all too deceiving; those military connections were sure to be suspect now.

Which made me apprehensive about the little lady standing in front of me.  I’d heard that the son had gone missing, and nobody could locate the daughter.  To have her turn up now, in my office, was suspicious.  Intriguing, but suspicious.

“Yes, I see by the expression on your face that you have an idea of why I’m here,” she said, jolting me out of my thoughts.  “Aren’t you going to invite me to sit down, at least?”

Alistair quickly shoved a stack a papers from a chair.  I raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged.  I gestured for her to take a seat, and flipped the lights back on.

“How can we help you, Miss Cousland?” I asked.

She arranged her hands neatly in her lap before replying.  “My parents are dead, and their good characters are being dragged through the mud.  I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” She waved her hand dismissively.  “The good secrets are never kept, at least by the police. I arrived home yesterday to endless questioning and interrogations; I haven’t even had a chance to unpack my suitcase.  After the way that they framed their questions, I am convinced that this absurd treason investigation is somehow connected with my parents’ murders, and I’m determined to find what that is. To make matters worse, my brother is missing.  I tried calling him as soon as I could, but his regular line is dead and his secretary hasn’t seen him for days.  I am worried that his life may be in danger.

“I can obviously expect no help from official channels; those people will believe what they want to believe, while my parents’ murderer walks free and my family’s name is ruined.  What I ask of you is threefold: find my brother, track down the murderer, and clear my family’s name.”  She gave me a once-over.  “I’ve heard about you.  They say you’re the best, that you see each case through to the end and that you take spare no pains for details.  Will you do it?”

I laughed without humor.  “If only more people thought the same.  As you can see however,” I gestured to the dilapidated office around me, “we are a long way from the glory days.  I’m afraid what reputation this office once had is tarnished, our manpower reduced to two, and our resources short.  In fact, we were preparing to close down before you walked in tonight.”

“I should mention that money is no object,” she said coldly.  “You will have whatever you need.  Indeed, once this is over, and we prove successful, I will throw my full support behind you and ensure that Grey Wardens is brought back to a thriving, respected firm.”

I was not ashamed to admit that of all her words, this last appealed to me the most.  Truthfully, the case had a certain attraction from the beginning, and I could all but see Alistair squirm from excitement.  But the lady had hit my weak point: I was too attached to this place.  I would do anything to preserve Grey Wardens.

I looked at Alistair.  “Are you in?”

“Do you even have to ask?” he said, eyebrow quirked.  “I’m with you, Duncan, no matter what.  We just need to find the brother, find the killer, and get to the bottom of this treason charge. As long as I don’t end up naked in somebody’s trunk, I’m good.  All in a day’s work, right?”

I barked out a laugh.  “Get your things, kid, we’ve got a case.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended to write a cracked out AU and fill it EVERY SINGLE cliché I could think of, but then Duncan asked if he could at least _pretend_ to be Serious Business and I said "FINE. Pfft." The clichés are still there, just more suited up than usual.
> 
> This is also a one-shot, despite appearances.
> 
> ETA: Check out this awesome [art](http://payroo.deviantart.com/art/Dragon-Age-Noir-162167594) drawn by Payroo!
> 
> ETA2: Even more amazing art! [Here](http://chronicdoodler.deviantart.com/#/d30s060), by chronicdoodler.


End file.
